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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27134530">shibuyagawa</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/PHLHeart/pseuds/PHLHeart'>PHLHeart</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Keyakizaka46 (Band), Sakurazaka46 (Band)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-10-21</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-10-21</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-18 06:36:19</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,883</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27134530</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/PHLHeart/pseuds/PHLHeart</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Kobayashi Yui waits alone, sinking deeper and deeper into her own music.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Imaizumi Yui/Kobayashi Yui</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>11</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>shibuyagawa</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>I apologize for the delay as well as the somewhat rushed editing. Schedule has been rough. Anyway, please enjoy and leave a review!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>Do you know the</em>
  <br/>
  <em>Shibuya River?</em>
  <br/>
  <em>You may have heard the name,</em>
  <br/>
  <em>But it probably doesn’t ring a bell</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Yui’s voice is weak. Nobody is listening, so why is she so nervous? Her hands shake, fingers fumbling to reach the right chords.. And yet the words roll off her lips as though she had known them her whole life.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>The April wind blows at her- she reflexively squints her eyes.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>It’s silly, really. Kobayashi isn’t sure why she waits here, why she sings to the empty breeze. She doesn’t bother looking at her watch as she plays, she knows she’s running late anyway. They’re waiting for her.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>She waits. And she sings.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Perhaps it’s foolish to wish for her to come, she knows Imaizumi's condition isn’t exactly pristine at the moment. But she holds onto that hope.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>It’s their last chance, after all. To do the thing they both love most one last time.</em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>She waits alone. And she sings.</em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>So it could be forgotten</em>
  <br/>
  <em>It was placed in a corner of the city</em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>She briefly wonders if she’s going crazy, or if she really does hear Imaizumi’s voice. After a few moments, she decides it’s nothing more than a painful reminder of how much she misses her.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Yui holds this song close to her heart, she always has. After all, it’s the only time she can hear her sing again. Even if they were apart. Even if it was only her.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Her velvety high-pitched voice, singing its melody softly in the background. How she wishes she could hear it again with her own ears. Her gentle hands strumming the instrument into a beautiful melody.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Somehow a pesky voice grows louder somewhere in the back of her head. It isn’t her. It could never be. Yui was much too kind to do this to her. It whispers to her heart-wrenching words that filled her with despair. The once precious tune turning into one of loneliness.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Perhaps.. She’s forgotten? Would she?</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>The way Imaizumi would look into her eyes as they sang into the night. The way the lyrics pierced her heart, like it was so much more than that… Was she wrong for thinking differently?</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Suddenly the sounds of the water flowing beneath the bridge grew stronger, like it was attempting to swallow her whole.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Is that why she left?</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>She pauses, her arm falling to her sides.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>“Does it really matter?”</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>The clouds above her were colored darker than she remembered. Yui suddenly feels a stream of water spilling down her face. Rain? No.. that isn’t right, the concrete below her was still dry.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>She wipes it away and strengthens her resolve. She places her hands on her guitar's wooden surface once more.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>She’ll wait, just a little longer.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Please prove me wrong.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>But still, surely</em>
  <br/>
  <em>The stream continues to murmur</em>
  <br/>
  <em>Just like my feelings</em>
  <br/>
  <em>Toward you</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>She waits alone. And she plays.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Even if it was so, even if she was left to wait here for an eternity, Yui could never bring herself to hate her. Even if she is forgotten, she’ll cling to the hope that this song would bring her back. Even if she could no longer sing, if her fingers could no longer strum the lyrics to her heart, she’ll wait.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>She’ll wait for the time they could talk and laugh like they used to. For the days where they’d sit on the last bus trip home, humming silently. Zuumin falling asleep, her head resting on her shoulders; breath starting to slow in the dark. She can’t help but reminisce all those times they’d walk side by side.</em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>Talking about silly things</em>
  <br/>
  <em>As we walk through the bus lane</em>
  <br/>
  <em>Approaching Furukawa Bridge</em>
  <br/>
  <em>Why do I suddenly feel pain</em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>Her throat tightens as she sings those words, but she forces a small smile. If Imaizumi were here, she wouldn’t want to see her in tears. If she were here, Yui wouldn’t be crying in the first place. If she were here, the clouds would open up, the sun shining down on her bright smile, contrasting Kobayashi’s usually calm expression. If she were here… If she were here...</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>She wasn’t here.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>That was the truth of it all. She left long ago, and yet Yui could never truly let her go. She’d come here when she could, and she’d sing, wishing the wind to carry her feelings to the palm of her hand.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>My beloved is stowed away in my heart (stowed away in my heart)</em>
  <br/>
  <em>I’ve only placed a little space between us</em>
  <br/>
  <em>It silently flows</em>
  <br/>
  <em>Inconspicuously every day</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>She’d ran off on her own, of her own accord and worked elsewhere. But her sweet voice was muted. Locked away. Her dream of song snatched away without an ounce of sympathy. That was the most heartbreaking part of it all.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Yui could only stare desperately from afar, as if a river was separating them from meeting again. The bridge that they once built had crumbled, its remains being wrenched away by the torrent.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>‘Even though I am looking only at you… why do you look elsewhere?’</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Almost as if she didn’t want to return. Almost as if all those times meant nothing to her.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Somehow she understood without having to think.</em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>No one notices</em>
  <br/>
  <em>This Shibuya River</em>
  <br/>
  <em>It doesn’t dry up</em>
  <br/>
  <em>It always stays the same</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>They’re wrong- she’s wrong. Yui would talk to her friends about nonsensical things, but her thoughts always wandered back to her. And nobody notices. Nobody notices her frustration, her sorrow. Nobody hears the tears she shed at night, even through the thin walls of her room. Like they didn’t want to hear it. Like she didn’t want to hear it.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>No matter how hard she cries, Imaizumi would never know.</em>
  <br/>
  <em>Her feelings will remain to the end of time. She could lose her memory, but Zuumins’ heavenly voice will never truly be lost from her.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>She waits alone. And she sings.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Even people’s dirty water</em>
  <br/>
  <em>And tears that overflow</em>
  <br/>
  <em>Are carried to the ocean</em>
  <br/>
  <em>But the broken pieces of love</em>
  <br/>
  <em>Where do they go?</em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>If her questions are never given a final answer, she’ll continue to ask. To doubt. To doubt the one person she trusted most was a fate worse than death.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>She could cry more tears, to the point that the river overflows, but they would be absorbed by the ground before even a drop touches her beloveds’ feet.</em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>It would be better for us to exist as friends</em>
  <br/>
  <em>If we continue for a long time,</em>
  <br/>
  <em>That would be good</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Kobayashi treasured this relationship they had, whatever you would call it. She’d never risk destroying it. Even if it meant eternal longing. Her questions are never answered. Though she supposes it’s because she lacked the courage to ask in the first place.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>And now? Now what?</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Yui could barely even call themselves friends anymore- after all, she couldn’t even remember the last time they exchanged a text. They’re not lovers. No, definitely not. Acquaintances is too sad a word to even say.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Now, they’re nothing. If you’re neither loved or hated, then you’re nothing.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>She waits, alone. And she sings.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>I secretly desire</em>
  <br/>
  <em>This eternal love</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>She sent her off with a final farewell. A lopsided grin. But there was this gnawing feeling that ate at her. As they sat, singing as a duet for what could very well have been the final time. Even then she knew she should’ve said something sooner, and now it was too late.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Even if she meets her again with her own two eyes, she’d have to leave. Perhaps it’d make it that much more painful.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>There’s no longer a sliver of a chance that they’d live out their lives together anymore.</em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>All she wanted was closure. Assurance that the future would be bright. That they wouldn't forget the past.</em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>Until forever, until forever</em>
  <br/>
  <em>Time will pass, the scenery will change,</em>
  <br/>
  <em>But our relationship won’t come to an end…</em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>She hears a ringing. Yuuka is calling. Kobayashi momentarily stops her singing to end the phone call without hesitation. The clock is ticking, Zuumin. Please come. Please. Please. Please. Please...please.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>She doesn’t want to see the green fade. Yui doesn’t want to long for her from miles away anymore.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Who knows how long it would be till she returns here? To this bridge. To her.</em>
  <br/>
  <em>Please.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>“…”</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Her shoulders slump.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>It’s time. She isn’t here.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>She half-heartedly stores the crimson guitar back in its case. With a final click, it closes. Protected from the wearing of the humid air. And she lays it on the cold, hard ground.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>“I’ll leave you here… In case there is someone willing to pick you up and sing again.”</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>She stands up to leave. With finality, she sings the final lines.</em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>Do you know that Shibuya River?</em>
  <br/>
  <em>Even if it’s just a little</em>
  <br/>
  <em>I want you to recall (I want you to recall)</em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>Nausea swirled unrestrained in her empty stomach. Head swimming with half-formed regrets. Her heart grew heavy as it struggled to keep a steady beat. Yui's melancholy mood hung over her like the dark clouds above her.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Even the colours of the spring day seemed so lifeless now.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>So that</em>
  <br/>
  <em>The river that flowed near</em>
  <br/>
  <em>The path that we always walked</em>
  <br/>
  <em>Will remain</em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>She walks her final steps on the bridge with her luggage right behind, recounting the memories she’s shared. It was for the best that she leave. There was no other way for her to move on with her life otherwise. By no means was it healthy for her to be moping around, clinging to that incessant hope.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>She takes a deep breath in. The last words that would finally set her free.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <strong>
    <em>“My love for you</em>
  </strong>
  <br/>
  <strong>
    <em>Will continue forever”</em>
  </strong>
</p>
<p>
  <em>That voice…</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>With desperate eyes she looks around, searching for the voice's origin. She looks past the trees, but the sunset makes it difficult for her to make out her figure.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>“Yui?!”</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Her voice cracks once again. She’s aware she probably looks like a fool chasing after a ghost, but that doesn’t matter right now. What’s important is- “Zuumin!”</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Her mischievous smile, chestnut-colored hair. Her familiar presence. Like it was so long ago.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>She falls to her knees. Then she laughs.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>It isn’t a sad one, but rather one of multiple emotions crushed into a single sound.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>“I should’ve known.”</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Fate truly is cruel to be pulling these tricks at me.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>With a defeated sigh, she gets up to her feet, eyes drawn solely on the ground. As if she didn’t want to face reality.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>It really is time to let go of the past then.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>She’s done what she needed to do. With clenched fists, Kobayashi starts to walk again.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Now it’s time to leave behind the green fields, the unstable bridge which once chained her, to look forward to a new beginning. To leave to a place, to a future where she could finally shine on her own. To bloom like a pure white sakura that has yet to be dyed any color.</em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>-</em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>A figure sits on the edge, hair blowing madly in the wind. Hands tightly gripping the neck of a worn guitar.</em>
  <br/>
  <em>“It was for the best. Maybe one day, our eyes will meet once more.”</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>She waits, alone. And she sings.</em>
</p>
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